


Do No Harm

by Skry_Cat



Category: Team Fortress 2
Genre: Building Friendship, Gen, I feel the need to add excessive tags, don't get too excited, finding common ground, friends - Freeform, less common interactions, sorry - Freeform, this is just for funsies
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-17
Updated: 2019-03-17
Packaged: 2019-11-19 13:56:09
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,223
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18136634
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Skry_Cat/pseuds/Skry_Cat
Summary: Medic and Spy find common ground when forced to cooperate in the mines.(It's not a shipping fic. Sorry. Well, not super sorry, but don't get excited.)





	Do No Harm

            Medic grunted, teeth grit as he ran a mental inventory of his body. The tumble across the harsh terrain of the New Mexico desert was little to sneeze at and he felt a couple of his joints protest as he started to push up from the ground. Rocket launchers were the bane of his existence on more than one occasion. Still not fully on his feet, Medic cast a glance around him, searching for the enemy Soldier that would have fired the missile. The mesas around them appeared barren, so he turned his attention to his team.

            The Heavy he had been running to assist was nowhere to be seen and he could only hope that the respawn had been quick and painless. But in his absence, Medic was left with a cold pit in his stomach. It was not uncommon for his own death to quickly follow a companion’s on the battlefield. Swinging his medigun to his back on its strap, he drew his bone saw. The sounds of battle had shifted away from them and he had to brace himself for the sprint ahead of him to get back into fray and within the protective realm of his teammates.

            It was only then that the flash of a rocket launcher in the distance caught his attention. His gaze shot to the origin, quick as a shot. The Soldier he had been wary of stood at the edge of a nearby mesa. He must have waited to see movement to fire again. And yet…Medic’s brows drew together as he realized the Soldier was faced the wrong direction. Guessing the new trajectory, Medic turned to find one of his Spies standing at the yawning mouth of a mine shaft not too far away.

            Several questions came to mind and the urge to contemplate the spiderweb of reality that connected all the questions tugged at him. Why was Spy there and not with the others? How far had the others gone in the time it had taken him to recover from the blast? Would Heavy even think to look for him when he did not respawn alongside his companion? But with a missile mid-air, the time for consideration was well passed and Medic let himself fall back into the baser instinct to protect. That propelled him forward, eyes fixed on his teammate, dead-set on beating the missile to its target.

 

            The Spy, browsing through his cigarette case, barely turned to notice the Medic. When he did look up, he raised an eyebrow at the sight of the Medic charging him. The briefest glint of concern pricked at his skull – the ever-present paranoia that the world was an elaborate trap he evaded. And Medic charging, full speed, at him was just the sort of alarming thing that would suggest some of the worst-case scenarios. He went out of his way on most days to avoid needing the attention of the man who frequently found himself doused in blood and performing – to say the absolute least – questionable experiments on those around him.

            However, the only real concern that presented itself was the shrieking hiss that entered from his left as the missile entered his hearing range. Distracted from the Medic, he turned to see the projectile screaming at him with a trail of smoke in tow. “ _Merde_.”

            There was no time to run, only time to be bowled into by the Medic as the missile crashed into the overarching supports of the shaft’s entrance. What followed was the thundering boom and resonating echoes as the entrance collapsed and the arch caved into itself, leaving a cloud of dust that left both men coughing as the sunlight was choked out.

 

            Spy didn’t like considering his situation. The best-case scenario was that he was under the weight of some mid-sized rock and could readily pull himself free and look up to find some glimmer of hope through a human sized hole back into the open world. The harsh reality was that the mass on top of him was breathing and that the area he inhabited was nearly pitch black with a fine shimmer of dust particles from the minute gaps of light peeking in from the outside world. Would that he could close his eyes and be dead and ready to respawn.

            His fingers gripped a little tighter than normal as he grasped Medic’s pack straps and shoved him off onto his own patch of dirt. “Get off me. This suit is worth more than your entire lab, I’m sure.”

            Medic heaved a sigh and caught himself from rolling, turning the movement into a half rise before falling back to sit and – once again – take inventory of his condition. “Sounds like you got a bad deal then,” he muttered, straightening his glasses.

            The Frenchman sneered, that much was clear in the dim light. Medic returned it before rising and dusting off his coat. Spy kept a respectable distance but stood beside him as they appraised the mass of boulder, stone and rubble keeping them inside the mineshaft. There was silence. Neither wanted to acknowledge the barrier and neither wanted to ask for suggestions. With the fighting having moved away, it was unlikely the team would notice their absence for some time. The enemy Soldier would have assumed their deaths and moved on to the next target. And neither carried anything useful against sheer earthen force of nature.

            Medic was the first to turn to the remainder of the tunnels with a labored sigh. “I saw the Engineer’s maps at one point. These shafts should connect to the ones by the base,” he offered.

            “Ah. You would like to lead us into a maze, then? Where we will get lost and die well before finding another exit?”

            “The entrance faced Vest. Ve can mark the turns and –”

            “Perhaps I did not make myself clear.”

            Medic fell silent, his glare quickly dissolving in a defeated sigh as he adjusted his pack on his shoulders and swung his medigun back into place. Charging it, the orb of energy that perched at the end provided enough light to cast the area into a dim, red haze. “Do vat you like. I’ll go on my own.”

            The first few steps were taken in silence and isolation. It wasn’t until he reached the first bend that Medic heard the echoed footsteps behind him as Spy once again came alongside. He spared a sideways glance, not even turning his head. The Spy afforded him the same.

            As fortune had it, Medic was granted the silence and time he would have liked earlier to ponder. If, indeed, the team had not moved as far as he expected, Spy’s presence could make sense. Stay back and re-enter once he was in disguise. It was more believable, he supposed, than simply popping into existence too close to the opposing team’s group. But then. Spy had not been on alert after he and Heavy had been targeted the first time. Medic knew their connections were limited, and terse at best, but surely the Frenchman would have been aware of the danger and been more cautious if he had seen the Heavy go down. A niggling concern that he actually walked beside the opposing Spy tingled at the base of his skull…but then…

            A hand caught his shoulder and dragged him back a step.

 

            Spy casually observed. Within moments of their starting, the Medic had gone lock-jawed with focus as he trailblazed into the darkness of the mines. At first, Spy was subtle in his observation, but it soon became clear that he could watch, bordering on ogling, without any consideration from his teammate. The man was lost to reality – likely in some sordid creation of his own imaginative hell of body reconfiguration and cross-species testing. Spy’s sneer deepened, and he elected to withdraw from his own consideration of the Medic’s thoughts.

            But then the man was so lost in focus that he was blindly walking to a sheer drop. Spy stopped, eyebrow raised and jaw slack as he watched the man. Surely…surely, he would…No, he would not. Spy staggered forward catching his shoulder at the last moment and pulling him back from stepping into the abyss. The motion seemed to jar the man and Medic turned to look at him with mixed confusion and surprise. Spy’s brows drew closer, not apprehending the Medic’s thoughts. He nodded towards the cliff edge for Medic to look and then withdrew his hand and turned to carry on down a rickety set of stairs.

            Medic looked at the edge of the cliff. _Scheisse_. He was drifting. And Spy had noticed it. His mind reeled back into place and he worked to keep composure as he turned to follow the Spy down the stairs. With each step, his thoughts raced faster, fixated on Spy’s back. Normally, he didn’t have to worry about the others catching him off guard like that. The action kept him focused. And if the action did not, Engie would. As far as Medic knew, the Engineer was the only other one on the team who paid that kind of attention, enough to watch out for him when curiosity called him onto a different plane of thought. He was…

            The world jarred to a halt and Medic looked up to find his medigun planted firmly in the curve of Spy’s side. The Spy crafted another mocking sneer as he gave half a glance to the device before leveling the full severity of French judgement on the doctor himself. “I wanted to know if you’d be mad enough to do it again. Looks like it’s 2-nil, Medic. No wonder you lost your license.”

            The words were unnecessarily sharp. The German’s composure slipped a fraction, shoulders drooping and his gaze moving away from the Spy’s. As his gaze slipped however, he found a quiet resolve. “In order to lose something, you must have it to start vith.”

            Spy’s eyebrow rose again. “Meaning?”

            A spark lit in Medic’s eye and he took a step forward, his hand coming up like lightning to pinch the pressure point under the suit. Spy gasped and, curling into the pain, only to find Medic’s fist well placed in his jaw. “Meaning that I have rather meaningful knowledge of how best to bring a man to his knees should he be unfortunate enough to come within my arm’s reach.”

            Spy staggered back, stringing together a list of colorful words between English and French to aim at the doctor. He took only a moment to assess his location before springing back, hand reaching for his butterfly as he grabbed the Medic’s straps again and swung him around to fling him into the wall of the narrow corridor. “God, you suck! You know that?” he growled as he skulked towards the Medic.

            Medic thumped into the wall, hearing an ominous crack from his backpack as he lost grip on the medigun. The light flickered out just in time for him to see the tall dark silhouette of Spy descending on him. He swore, rolling away from his position. A close combat with Spy was a mistake – especially in the dark. In the light, he stood a fighting chance. But in the dark, a blade would do plenty of damage without needing precision. He needed to get the light back on before Spy could gain his bearings.

            Something caught his foot however and he felt a grinding pain from what he assumed was the heel of a fine pair of shoes. Medic braced himself, arm up and over his face as he felt Spy’s weight shift forward and downward. Curse the man. Medic rolled again, a sharp pain seizing his ankle. The blade did no harm however, as he swung his other hand to knock Spy’s arm on his way to reach for the medigun. He felt it scrape across the mine floor, scrambled to find the handle. The pain in his ankle was intensifying, screaming for attention.

            And then he felt the knee on his chest as Spy dropped. When the Frenchman’s full weight landed, the knee shifted up, pinning his shoulder and Medic felt a cold sweat break out across his entire body. He knew what came next. “Does it hurt when I do that?” Spy taunted. “It does, doesn’t it?”

            Spy’s forearm rested on Medic’s head as he leaned in, grinding the German’s cheek into the dirt. He was drawing this out, enjoying it. “It’s ok. You’ll just respawn, right?”

            Dying never felt good, though. It was jarring and bitter and, though Medic never confirmed with the others if theirs was the same as his, it was dark and isolated and horribly, horribly cold. “ _Gott_ , please don’t…” he hated the fear in his voice, wished it away, felt anger being stifled by it as his fingers seemed to slow in their search for the medigun handle.

            One last try; Medic jerked, twisting until it felt like his ankle would break and his spine would turn no further. But it paid off and his fingers clutched onto the long handle of his gun. Accustomed to its heft and weight, he brought his arm up without a second of hesitation. The butterfly knife still punctured his coat and shirt and he felt its sting on his chest – over his heart – but the impact of the gun threw Spy off balance. The point of pain turned into a streak as the blade dragged across his front – but he would live.

            With life came anger, bursting through the wall of fear like a tank. In a flash, he was rolling to his knees to follow after spy. He activated the medigun again – which fizzled and sparked after the damage done to his pack. It would be no actual help in the situation, but the flickering light it offered was more than enough. Medic let it rest on the ground, shedding the pack and turning his attention on the Frenchman. Spy had a hand over his jaw and Medic could see a line of blood seeping down from a cut under his eye. Medic frowned, anger tempered by the sight.

            Still, he had enough anger to move in on his target, gritting his teeth at the resistance from his ankle as he straddled the man and drew his fist back to strike. Spy’s knife was out of his hand – he always did have a poor grip on the thing when he felt cocky. He was open for the taking and, by his own logic, Medic could finish him off since he would just respawn after it all. He scanned the Spy, taking note of the ample target his temples provided, eyeing the fragile trachea that would collapse under little pressure, assessing the time he could spend wailing on thin man’s readily accessible solar plexus before the shock would kill him.

            And yet.

            When his strike landed, it was open palmed and stung across Spy’s cheek, making his head jerk. Anger dissipated, cooled until it simple seethed under his skin again. Medic’s breathing was choppy, but he was under control. Spy, wide eyed from the hit, slowly turned back to the man. There, his eyes narrowed, his defenses rising higher. “You hit like a girl, you coward.”

            Medic’s jaw tightened, and his brows furrowed. Curse this Frenchman and his inescapable ego. “I didn’t vant to hurt you… _schweinhund_.”

            “Why the hell not?”

            The anger flared, and Medic took hold of the suit’s lapels, picking Spy up just to shove him back and hopefully shut him up. It would not have caused much damage, he hoped. “You talk too much for a spy,” he muttered. “Vy vould I vant to hurt you? You are my teammate. I have no reason to end your life and I svore once that I vould do no harm.”

            Stunned silence. For several seconds, the only sound in the mines was the crackle of the damaged medigun. Spy’s defenses were shot, lower than he could remember them being for some time. He huffed out a breath as his own temper faded back to an easy shade of blue. He looked away, considered, and then side-eyed the Medic. “Well…if you’re not going to do anything, mind if I regain my sense of personal space?”

            Medic blinked, cast a glance around them and then nodded. Shifting backwards, he sat and sighed. Spy sat up, pulled his kerchief to stopper the blood on his cheek. The silence resumed, and Spy pulled out his cigarette case. He took a drag and relaxed, flicking the ash off. “Well, shall we continue?”

            The sound of his voice caught Medic and the German looked over, seeing the man without really observing. His mouth opened, and he gazed at the orange haze of light in Spy’s hand, something to ground himself on. “First, let me patch up your cut.”

            “It’s nothing.”

            “It vill scar.”

            Spy rolled his eyes, but he withdrew his hand to expose the slash on his face. A smile quirked at the corner of Medic’s lips and he reached into a hidden compartment of his pack to retrieve some more traditional medical supplies. The patch was easy and quick to complete, and it set him at ease – what harm he felt he had done was resolved. Plus, there was some small satisfaction in the hiss Spy uttered when the antiseptic cleansed the wound.

            When it was done, both rose and gathered themselves. Spy nodded back down the shaft and extended a hand for Medic to lead the way. But only a few steps in, Medic came to a stop and knelt. When he rose again, Spy recognized the glint of his butterfly knife in the medigun’s dim light. His eyes widened a fraction when the man deftly unlocked and twirled it back into closed position. And when Medic turned to offer it back to him, there was a gentle innocence in his eyes. Spy took the knife, stowing it with a nod of thanks and they proceeded.

 

            Slowly, but surely, the tension between them eased and the silence became more bearable. In time, a faint glow of light appeared before them. Relief washed over both men as they recognized the blast doors that cut off the main base from the spidering mine shafts beyond. The lone light was warmer than either had remembered seeing in some time and the remaining tension evaporated.

            As Medic went to key in the unlocking code, Spy reached up to grab his shoulder. Medic watched him, gaze searching for anything malicious. But he was met with a genuine – if not somewhat haughty – smile. “You know something? You’re not that bad of a doctor after all.”

            The door hissed open and Spy walked inside without waiting for Medic’s response. Medic simply stood, slack jawed for a moment, before shaking himself out of the state and continuing in after the Spy. There were a great many mysteries in the world. This one did not need to be unlocked immediately – and that was fine. But for a moment, he felt a little younger and a little spryer, and he whistled a trilling little tune as they walked into the common area to face the irritation of the team that had gone much too long without their Spy and Medic.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks so much for reading, first of all!  
> Secondly.  
> I'm sorry, friends. I know that I had promised to do more Monster Prom fics. And I may still do them in the future. But my mind is currently in the TF2 brewing pot. And this is, as you can see, the first fic I've done in a long time. I'm getting revved up again.  
> Let me know what you think!


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